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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25911370">Aziraphale's Bookshop in 1800 (Deleted Scene) a.k.a. "Chocolates!"</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusive_ellipsis/pseuds/elusive_ellipsis'>elusive_ellipsis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Half-Decent Omens [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Gets A Medal (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop Opening (Good Omens), Crowley Acting (Good Omens), Deleted Scene: Aziraphale's Bookshop 1800 (Good Omens), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:35:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25911370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusive_ellipsis/pseuds/elusive_ellipsis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>From the depths of the Good Omens Script Book, a reimagining of the deleted scene involving Aziraphale and his bookshop, Crowley and a box of chocolates, Gabriel, Sandalphon, a medal and an overabundance of terrible acting.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Half-Decent Omens [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aziraphale's Bookshop in 1800 (Deleted Scene) a.k.a. "Chocolates!"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was as nice a day as it ever could be in Soho, at the very beginning of the nineteenth century. The streets were not as awfully muddy as they usually were, and in the middle of one stood an angel, looking up at his brand new shop. He beamed as the words, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mr A Fell Purveyor of Books to the Gentry, Established 1800</span>
  </em>
  <span> were painted above the shopfront. Someone with a horse and cart shouted at him and he skipped quickly out of the road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jolly good!" he called up to the man on a ladder who was painting the shop's name. "Absolutely tip-top."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man paused to look down at him and say, "Ain't </span>
  <em>
    <span>tip-top</span>
  </em>
  <span> price though. Got a family to feed, sir." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale looked guilty. "I'm sure I can find some more money to help you along," he said sheepishly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The painter grinned and turned back to his work, well aware that the price had been more than decent even before - the word on the street was right. This curious new shop owner was generous indeed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the painter finished up his work, Aziraphale stepped inside his bookshop and breathed in the slightly musty scent that always accompanied any second-hand bookshop worth its salt, despite his shop's shelves being bare and him never having received a customer yet. He began to unpack a box of leather-bound volumes, placing them on shelves with no apparent order whatsoever, and humming to himself quietly as he did so. He was perfectly at ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a tinkle at the door, and the sound of two people approaching. Aziraphale didn't look up from his books. "I'm afraid we don't open until Friday," he said, as the footsteps advanced. "But we will be having a grand opening just before -"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're not here to buy your books, Aziraphale."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale spun to face Gabriel and Sandalphon, both astonishingly well dressed as Regency dandies. Aziraphale was rather surprised they'd even managed to find themselves period-appropriate dress - Heaven-based angels were notoriously bad at blending in - but that paled in comparison to his surprise that they were both standing in his bookshop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, Sandalphon, Gabriel," he said, "this is marvellous." It was most certainly not. "What brings you to London?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandalphon grinned. It was a smile that offered a roughly equivalent amount of reassurance as the look on the face of a person who was covered in blood and carrying a suspiciously-shaped sack. Aziraphale grimaced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We bring good news, Aziraphale," said Gabriel, echoing Sandalphon's grin. Aziraphale perked up a little; maybe this wasn't going to be so bad. Gabriel spread out his hands as if he was trying to embody the collective overenthusiasm of every game show host that was ever to live. "You're being promoted!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandalphon's golden tooth glinted. "You get to come back home!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale paused. "I'm sorry?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're being promoted," said Gabriel, putting a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder and shaking him slightly, as if that would help the news sink in. "You've been here nearly six thousand years, Aziraphale. And your work has not gone unnoticed or unappreciated, I assure you. But now you don't have to spend a minute longer on this -" Gabriel glanced around the bookshop and at the street outside - "planet."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale hesitated. "But my bookshop opens on Friday. If I go back... <em>Upstairs</em>, I won't be able to..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure whoever replaces you down here will appreciate your work in setting it up." Gabriel gave Aziraphale a hearty slap on the shoulder and didn't stop grinning. Aziraphale stared at the two angels in desperation as they stood, beaming, waiting for him to rejoice at his promotion and leap at the opportunity to return to the empty white walls of Heaven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sandalphon lifted a box and opened it to reveal a medal. Aziraphale stared at it helplessly. "I don't want a medal."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very noble of you, Aziraphale." Gabriel smiled some more. Aziraphale wished he would stop it. He wished they would both walk away and leave him alone to sort his books. He prayed for a way out of this awful situation, though he did not have much faith that God would answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They did not. And just when it seemed like Aziraphale’s day couldn't have become any more disastrous, a familiar figure showed up at the window to the shop, holding a box and wearing dark glasses. Aziraphale stared at him, then dragged his gaze back to the two angels before him who hadn't appeared to have noticed the demon lurking just outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But who will thwart the wiles of the evil demon Crowley?" asked Aziraphale. The demon himself was hovering at the threshold, frowning at Aziraphale. Crowley held up the box he was carrying and mouthed </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Chocolates!’</span>
  </em>
  <span> as if to say he couldn't possibly be the evil force Aziraphale was purporting him to be. Aziraphale tried his best to ignore him, looking at the angels before him with thinly veiled desperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure your successor won't be as good an adversary to him as you. Perhaps Michael can replace you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale tried his very best to keep his eyes away from Crowley, but did not succeed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Michael?'</span>
  </em>
  <span> the demon was mouthing, making a face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>'Michael's a wanker!'</span>
  </em>
  <span> Aziraphale was sure Gabriel and Sandalphon saw his face shift, but the pair remained perfectly oblivious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Crowley's been down here since the very beginning with me. Nobody knows him like I do." Aziraphale tried to ignore Crowley's grin. "He's ever so wily, you know, more than you'd think, and he's cunning and brilliant and I-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel laughed, and it was a sorry imitation of mirth. "It almost sounds like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, Aziraphale."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale winced, as Crowley raised his eyebrows behind the glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well...why, I..." Aziraphale glanced around the bookshop, seeking some kind of excuse or escape. Instead he was faced with empty shelves, nowhere to run, and Crowley gesticulating wildly trying to mime something just outside the door. The demon raised his hands, the box placed on the step in front of him, and twisted them into claws, baring his teeth. "Crowley is...very demonic..." The demon nodded encouragingly and changed his actions. He raised one of his hands over his head and swirled it around in a sorry imitation of a cog. "And...if I leave him to his evildoing...he’ll hypnotise everyone?" Crowley shook his head sharply and raised his other hand, spinning them both around above his head with increasing speed. Aziraphale was more baffled than before. "No, he will… drive us all crazy?" The demon shrugged. It wasn't what he had been aiming for, but it was better than worldwide hypnotism.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel and Sandalphon still seemed blissfully oblivious to the demon standing about ten feet away from them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anyway," said Aziraphale, "the point is that while I do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> Crowley - it would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>highly</span>
  </em>
  <span> inappropriate for an angel to like a demon - I am the only angel who understands his wicked ways suitably to thwart them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well I don't mean to be demeaning," said Gabriel cheerfully, "and you may believe that to be true, but I highly doubt it. You can give Michael some tips when we get back to Heaven."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are we leaving... now?" Aziraphale glanced desperately at Crowley, who was suddenly looking very worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Once I've gone to Cork Street to see my tailor." Gabriel patted his coat. "I am ever so fond of their clothes. Wonderful things, don't you think?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale felt sick. He looked past the angels again, and caught a glimpse of a smile as the demon turned away to leave. He could only wonder, and watch, as the pair of angels left the shop, wondering what a box of chocolates was doing on the doorstep. They looked at it in disgust. As soon as they were out of sight, Aziraphale snatched it up and retreated back among his books, clutching the box to his chest. He wished Crowley hadn't left. One last conversation before his departure would have been... nice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gabriel strode into his tailor's with all the confidence of someone who owned the place, glancing admiringly at another finely-dressed man as he left. Sandalphon positioned himself outside the door, glaring at passers-by for no apparent reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Davidson?" he said. "Is my suit ready?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is, my Lord," said Davidson, shuffling out from the back room. The tailor had been serving Gabriel for a good few years now, and in all the time he'd never quite figured out what he was lord of or why he seemed so incapable of comprehending human behaviour. He had concluded that Gabriel must have had a very sheltered upbringing, perhaps in The North. He never did realise how close that was to the truth. "If you would care to disrobe yourself behind the curtain, and I shall have it brought out to you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel stepped behind the curtain and began to unbutton his suit jacket, but paused as he heard a voice outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you certain that no one is listening to our ever-so-secret demonic conversation, O foul creature from the depths of Hell?"</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Just you and me, wily evil demon Crowley. All by ourselves, free to discuss demonic deeds without being overheard."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Gabriel stood on a stool and peered out of the window to see Crowley, the very demon he had been discussing with Aziraphale scarce minutes before, in conversation with a hooded figure. At the sight, he nearly fell off the stool and crashed into the curtain. He just about managed to regain his balance and stepped down, pressing up against the wall so that he couldn't be seen and was able to hear the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What is it you wished to complain about this time?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> said the strange demonic voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's terrible," hissed Crowley. "Every attempt to gain souls for our evil master seems to end up in heavenly flames. It's as if there's a pesky, competent force striving to undo all the evil I have wrought. Someone so </span>
  <em>
    <span>astoundingly</span>
  </em>
  <span> good at defeating me, they simply keep on thwarting me, no matter what."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What a supreme...</span>
  </em>
  <span> thwarter," said the lord. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"But Crowley, oh dutiful and powerful demon of Hell, I bring great news."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh?" said Crowley, eyes fixed on the hooded figure, determined to sell the performance. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Heaven has elected to send their finest champion, revered by humans across the globe, a true bastion against the forces of darkness, your nemesis, Aziraphale, back to Heaven, where they will be unable to thwart our evil plans."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley injected such enthusiasm into his voice he sounded mildly ill. "Could it possibly be so? Oh, praise Satan and all the legions of Hell! Such good fortune will surely turn the tide against the forces of Heaven once and for all! And I was in such despair that I had contemplated swallowing Holy Water as to end my plight against Aziraphale, such a capable, thwart-y angel he is."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"We shall rule Earth and all the kingdoms thereof for our enemy's fatal error,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> said the Demon from the Bowels of Hell, who was sounding less and less like a demonic creature and more like Kermit the Frog's chain-smoker cousin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley laughed, trying to sound as evil as possible, and convincing Gabriel entirely even if the least competent demons in Hell would have recoiled with embarrassment at the sound. "Surely we can now relax, set out for an evil drinking den to celebrate and plan our next moves unhindered by the forces of good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley hesitated, glanced up to make sure Gabriel wasn't looking, then quickly shoved the mannequin and its hooded cloak into the tailor's back door and stomped off giggling in two different voices alternately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale managed to hide the mostly-eaten box of chocolates just before Sandalphon and Gabriel, who was wearing his new suit, stepped back into his bookshop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, Aziraphale..." began Gabriel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes..." said Aziraphale, fearing that his fellow angel was about to announce that in addition to returning to Heaven he was going to be put in charge of Complaints Management or Religious Compliance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're staying here," said Sandalphon. "Heaven is actually so impressed by your achievements here on Earth that we would like you to stay here, battling the evil of the demon Crowley who you spoke about so... vehemently earlier. You don't get to come back to Head Office."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not going back Up?" He failed to keep the hope from his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>" 'Fraid not," said Sandalphon. "We need you here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thwarting demons." Gabriel still hadn't stopped grinning. "Keep the medal."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you said -"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Carry on battling." Sandalphon flashed his gold tooth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale opened his mouth to ask what had brought on this sudden reconsideration, but the angels had vanished. And waiting at the door stood Crowley, shrugging, a bunch of flowers in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Aziraphale opened the door for him, the angel was very close to dancing with glee.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As ever, thank you to my dear friend Lobster for their contribution to this series.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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